The Notebook
by Pekenota14
Summary: A teenage girl has informations about Beckett's mother case and she will reveal them. The girl will end up dead and Beckett in serious risks...I apologize for my bad English and any mistake, I'm Portuguese. This is the 1st part and I hope you like it.


**I apologize for my bad English and any mistake, I'm Portuguese. This is the 1st part, I hope you like it. Don't forget to review.**

There were a lot of children playing on the swing, on the slide, playing soccer, playing with marbles lying on the dusty and earthy floor. They looked happy, disconnected of the place and time around them; they were children, but not all. As a writer, he was used to catch some details and that girl had caught his attention. All dressed in black, since the trainers she was using, to the jeans and the shirt. She was wearing also a black leather jacket and she was sitting on the edge of the wall, with the elbows supported on a notebook open, which in turn was on top of a pillar of the wall. She was covering her mouth with the hands on a concave shape, moving them sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left. Her eyes were fixed in the river and on the skyline, her look looked thoughtful, pensive, bored and sad. Her breath was being interrupted for a bit long and timed, a smooth melody was coming out of her hands: she was playing harmonica.

"Can you be here?" Asked Kate seeing how Castle was being a bit troubled with that social institution. "Sure…" Answered him in doubt of answering, he was really shaking inside. "… I think I can." "Castle, you don't need to be here. You know, it was a three years old girl who was killed. It will be hard to stand aloof and distant… Even for me…" He nodded; it was getting really hard seeing all that kids, there, alone. He wanted to go home and kiss, hug and never let Alexis get away from him, it is his biggest fear. In the time they enter the door, they felt horrified. The scenario of the crime was absolutely horrendous. Blood everywhere, from a child, an innocent who had nothing to blame ... nothing. "Where's Lanie?" Asked Kate and Ryan answered her: "She is throwing up for the third time since we arrived here half an hour". Lanie appeared and said the little girl had died of asphyxia and all of that blood was not hers.

They scoured the entire social institution and there was another body. All the blood was explained. The director from the social institution confirmed that the woman found was the little's girl mother. She explained more: the parents were divorcing, kind of a bad divorce ending up with the parents on court and the child on a social institution. The father and the mother had been visiting the girl on the last night. She left them at ease and when she had came back she just saw the door semi open and the girl's body on the ground.

Castle was looking outside, still thinking about the girl. Beckett gave him a look that made him understand that she also had some curiosity on that girl. They came out and approached the girl. She stood in silence, playing harmonica. After a while she said: "It was a gift from my father and this too." While she was saying, slides out of her shirt a plaque identifying like the ones that soldiers and Marines use. "If the plaque identifying was a gift from your father, he was a Marine or a soldier…" Beckett was trying to understand better that weird girl. "He was a Brigadier in 2001. He found out some information on Afghanistan and was dishonorable discharged. He left me the information two days after he returning and die and my mother committed suicide disgusted of my father's death and because he had left me the information." "We've very sorry." Said Beckett after understanding that girl who had the appearance of being angry with the world and desired of looking for revenge. She closed the notebook, gave it in hands to Beckett and told her carefully and slowly: "You will start to read the last pages written. Keep this book with the utmost discretion and will forgive me, please." Her last four words were said so painful, as if she were apologizing for something that Beckett had no idea what. "Will forgive you why? What you've done?" Asked Kate looking at the girl's eyes like Caste had never seen. Ok, he already had seen that looked: when he said he needed to tell her important, about her mother's case. The girl dropped a tear which immediately cleared: "Just forgive me, you will know why later." The girl retreated out into the big red gates that marked the boundary between the institution and the outside world with all who were inside dreamed. On that night, Beckett got to be doing on precinct and she started reading the last written pages from the mysterious girl.

"I already told you what happened to my family. My father was a Brigadier and he discovered that a very wealthy investor was "building" schools in Afghanistan. True? In part. My father discovered the triple route of drug trafficking between Afghanistan, Hong Kong and New York. On the day he returned in December/2001 he knew he had no escape. He gave me the information for much that my mother cried and begged not to. Two days later, he was found dead in an alley in the periphery of the city. On that same day, they entered abruptly in my house to tell my mother she had been spared of any suffering, but I had to go with them. I would be well treated and would become the adopted daughter of the murderer of my father and be like the perfect scapegoat to save all information in the future. My mother killed herself with grief. As for the case that occurred in the institution, was a random event. They just wanted to catch your attention and end up with you, so be careful. They and I especially, know everything about you, your family, your friends, colleagues, hobbies, everything. All the information that is written back will help you. I pointed all travel, contacts, business, associations, accomplices, thugs and bosses. Make justice for yourself and for me, please, if you don't hate me too much. Keep this always with you. Don't; hide it in a safe place. And even now, while you're reading this, I am being tortured to say to whom gave the information, and I will be released in the same alley that my father was released, I'll die of blood drained. One more thing: my name is Kate and my father was James Jones. Don't go it will be a trap."

Beckett wondered what those spaces were there. She could see the marks of something written. She grabbed a pencil and began scratching smoothly so that she could read what was there. The first sentence said: "Don't; hide it in a safe place." The second one said: "Don't go it will be a trap". Beckett didn't care and immediately dragged the chair closer to the desk and searched the computer for news related to: James Jones, Brigadier. She found a news report about it. She gave a call to Ryan and Esposito who readily were available to go to that alley, at that hour, without knowing why. Beckett waited, there was a car going out from the narrow street that led to the alley. She got on time; she had just been literally dropped at the alley. Beckett raised her gun and walked the most silently possible. She knelt on the floor next to the girl. Ryan and Esposito called immediately 911. "There's no need to…" Said the girl as blood was trickling from her mouth, nose and ears. "I will die here…" "No you won't, hang on, the help is coming. Hold on. " Said Beckett, completely discredited in what she had just said. In her state she, at least, could endure until the ambulance arrived, not more.

Beckett seized to moment to tell her: "I don't hate, it wasn't your fault. You did a pretty good job." And then a silence nursed the place, was not an uncomfortable silence, or in any way embarrassed by the inexistence of nothing more to say, there was a painful silence, somehow painful for everyone. Beckett looked at the pitiful image of the girl, of the young woman who still had much to live. Her both legs had been broken by the kneecap and if the bones were not spiked and showed on the surface of her legs, no one would notice that those black jeans had any stain of blood. She lifted her shirt a little, where the bruises were showing up and signed. Also the eyelids and cheeks were getting equal. The breath of the teenage Kate was, at least, distressing. Apart from all lesions that Detective Kate could count, she was imagining how many more and worse she would not have internally. For much horrific as it seems, she wanted to give her a shot in the middle of the forehead and end up with that inhuman suffering, but she could not, she had no courage. Both knew what would happen next, Kate looked at Beckett stared into the eyes and told her: "For much insignificant as I am, don't forget me ..." "I won't forget, I won't." Said Beckett while she was stroking the girl's hair. Kate's eyes were fixed on the Beckett and no longer moved. She had stopped muttering pain, she had stopped breathing.

The ambulance had just arrived and paramedics left to run. "Stand back please." Said one of the paramedics, pushing Beckett, who did not move. She moved her hand slowly and closed Kate's eyes. Finally, took a deep breath, stood up and realized that she could not have done anything else. On the next morning, Castle was watching attentively Beckett who was sleeping on the desk, propped on her arms. He had two cups of a good and freshly made coffee. He would not wake up. He put a cup next to her and sat in his chair to see her. Maybe his poker companions had some reason: one year per book? With Derrick Storm this never happened to him. She was becoming a distraction not an inspiration. So, he tried to despite his attention from her and looked at the white board full of words and photos.

He already knew everything it had happened last night. That was the only thing he couldn't understand on her: how does she do that? How can she stay immune to that? He already knew the answer: She couldn't, she is human as him but she's a detective. She learned to keep the emotions away and store them on a corner of her heart and brain. She was awaking up, gradually and she stared at him. He is a mystery writer, famous, successful and rich. What the hell he was doing there? And for so long? Besides, he was smart, she don't want he away, he's useful. There was something about him, something different. He is the only one who always drives her crazy, who makes a shiver going up her spine; he's the one who makes her heart beat faster every time he blinks or smiles at her. He has a way of speak and write unique, all the details, all the concern. He's a magician with words; he turns everything much more interesting and appellative. He is someone she says she hates… but doesn't admit that she likes a little bit. He looked back to check how she was. He caught her awake and she smiled.

"Go home, you need to rest." "I don't have home, don't you remember?" He slapped himself on the forehead, he had just forgotten. He raised his hand to his pants pocket, which were part of his black and striped suit, and pulled out some keys that waved in front of her face. "No, no, no…" "Yes, do it …for me…please?" "No Castle, don't insist I won't go to your apartment!" "My mother is not living at my house right now and Alexis is on school. Just go and rest Kate." He took her hand, gave her the keys and a soft kiss on one of her cheeks that quickly turned red and burning. Her cheeks left on his lips that little burning. She "obeys", she knew when he called her Kate he was serious and worried. She returned the kiss and whispered into his ear: "The answer is on the notebook." She walked the way to the elevator in a way that just she can walk while he was looking at her face of "burial". Her whispered words were echoing in his head and her face was leaving him preoccupied. What she meant with that? ...


End file.
